


Nothing Left But The Clothes On Your Back And A Finicky Lighter

by penguinpatrolerarmy



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas, Gen, Hypothermia, Little Match Girl AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 18:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinpatrolerarmy/pseuds/penguinpatrolerarmy
Summary: (Rewrite of an earlier fic) Based on Hans Christian Anderson's The Little Match Girl





	Nothing Left But The Clothes On Your Back And A Finicky Lighter

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote last year titled "Matches". I really liked the idea but felt like I failed to execute it properly the first time around, so I gave it another shot.

The cold, fridged air showed no mercy as JD walked through town that day; The wind howled as snowflakes were wisked around in a whirlwind of frostbite and misery. He pulled his hands into the sleeves of his trenchcoat. The warmth had long left it, leaving behind a soggy mess that slowly seeped into his other clothes. Still, he held it close, it was the only thing even somewhat protecting him from the weather. His head was bare of any hat, his hands were lacking any sort of glove, and his dampened shoes didn't have any socks between them and his feet.

Yes, Jason Dean was outside in a snowstorm and terribly under-dressed for the occasion. It's not like he wanted to be, things just sort of happened. His boss just happened to fire him that weekend, His landlord just happened to kick him out of his house when he didn't have enough for rent, and everywhere he went so far just happened to either be closed or "Opened only to **paying** customers."

He should have expected it, it was Christmas Eve after all. People were out with their families or friends ore just taking the time off... JD's only family left him a month ago without so much as a goodbye. For a season that was supposed to be about giving, he'd sure lost a lot this month... And more kept leaving him.

JD sighed, stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets. Then, he curiously pulled out an object that had been resting at the very bottom of one of them. It was his lighter... He hadn't used it in a while on the account of not having the cash to sustain a smoking habit. But, he was grateful for finding it now. He flicked his thumb over it a few times, eventually sparking a little flame.

"JD? Is that you?"

He almost ignored it... Not on purpose though. The voice had simply been so quiet he questioned whether or not it was actually there. JD did, however, halt himself for a moment to look around. He thought he saw a figure in the distance for a moment, but didn't get a good look at them.

A searing pain suddenly shot through his hand, causing him to jolt. His thumb had traveled just a little too close to the flame, as evident by the small blotch starting to form on it. He got to his knees and dug through the freshly fallen powder, managing to quickly locate his lighter. After taking a short moment to brush it off, he attempted to reignite it. It took a few more tries than before, but it still worked.

"JD?" He looked up, his own eyes meeting another familiar pair... Veronica Sawyer was looking down at him, an expression of concern across her face. JD felt almost guilty at the site of it.

"Hi Veronica." He mumbled.

"What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

He stood up, brushing away a collection of snowflakes that had stuck to his hair. The flame on his lighter was still swaying back and forth. "I feel like I should be asking you the same to you."

Veronica sighed. "Yeah but, I'm dressed for the occasion. You're chilled to your bones." She unraveled her scarf, gently wrapping it around JD's shoulders. "What's going on with you?"

JD's head sunk just slightly into the fabric, savoring the warmth of it and also conveniently hiding part of his face. He really didn't want to inconveniance her during a holiday. And yet, his mind was just too muddled and exhausted to attempt to think of a lie.

"...The Landlord kicked me out." He mumbled, keeping is eyes averted from her gaze.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"...Who could I have said anything to?" He asked her. She fell quiet. The flame wavered for a few moments, almost flickering out. He carefully kept it sheilded from the wind. A cold hand ghosted his shoulder.

"Jason Dean," Veronica began, "If you don't try to ask for help when you're this far down the hole, when will you?"

JD chuckled, "I reckon when I'm 6 feet under."

Veronica sighed, then chuckled back. He could see her hand out in front of him. "Well, Let's try to not let that happen today... C'mon, Let's go to my place."

He took it, letting her drag him along. The snow started to blur around him, yet he managed to keep the little flame of his lighter from going out again. They approached the semi-familiar doorstep of Veronica's house. He stepped forward, feeling a brief warmth start to envelope him.

The lighter flickered out again, and a brisk air hit JD’s face. He looked around him, walls on every side. But rather than the walls of a house, they were the walls of a box. A cardboard box that was so soaked with fallen snow JD was probably the only thing keeping it propped up.

The snow outside was falling more heavily than ever now, so much so that JD could barely make out the other wall of the alley he’d walked into. He stared down at his hands, darkened purple starting to form on his finger tips. He numbly brought the lighter back up, trying to flick it again.

_Please… Please just let me see her again._

The flame flickered up… Dancing around in the furnace. The room was, again, familiar to one he'd seen in Veronica's house. However, in other ways it was like one of the many houses he'd stayed in during his childhood... Like a mixture of the two, actually. He gazed around a moment, taking in the scene.

“You came back again?” Veronica mumbled. He turned around, facing her again. She looked sadder than she had before.

“You stopped playing along.” JD replied.

“So you did know... I thought maybe if I did for a bit you’d at least be happy enough to keep going.”

“I lost all reason to keep going long ago… I’m not sure why I bothered before.”

“Its not too late, You can go back again…” She said this almost more like a small beg rather than a suggestion.

JD just shook his head. “What is there to go back to?”

Veronica had stopped, taking a moment to think it over... What really was there? “I wouldn’t know. You'd probably find something.”

JD sighed, shrugging off his damp coat and letting it hit the floor with a **thwack.** "I don't doubt I would've but…I’m just… I’m tired, Veronica.”

"I know..." Her arms wrapped around him, and warmth returned to his ridged form. He was still shaking, still soaked to his bones, but he wasn't alone anymore. He was back with Veronica... That's all he wanted.

"You sure you want to stay?" She asked, knowing it was the final offer.

"I want to be with you... Please?"

She let out a soft sigh, gripping him tighter. "Okay."

 

* * *

 

_December 25th._

_The body of a teenager was found in an alley this Christmas morning in Sherwood. Investigators were able to identify the corpse as Jason Dean, son of Fred "Big Bud" Dean. Dean's company had stopped in Sherwood a few weeks before, and it is believed that Jason may have been abandoned here. However, Dean has yet to make an official statement on the matter. Autopsy reports show the cause of death to be Hypothermia. This also marks the second death of a Westerburg High student this month, after Veronica Sawyer (Who had been hit by a drunk driver just last week). It is unknown currently if there is any link between these cases, however it is known that Jason and Veronica were dating at the time of her death._


End file.
